Day 10: Witvlei to Windhoek

Windhoek, Namibia - The last riding day. Ten out of ten. Although we had another long day - 159km (another century!) - today was the first day that I felt confident I would finish. I was so sure that I could do it, just because it was the last day, and I have already done so much.

Life is full of irony though, isn't it?

For starters, I was operating on minimal sleep, due to the hurricane that had swept across the Kalahari the night before. My wet sleeping bag did not make for the most comfy quarters. I was not a happy camper - literally.

Fortunately, it had cleared by morning and it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. Probably because I spent most of the night willing that to happen (please don't let it be raining tomorrow, please don't let it be raining tomorrow...) And in fact it was not raining but the wind was brutal. Apparently the prevailing winds are from the east, so they should have been at our back, but these were 30kmh crosswinds. I rode with Viv and we struggled all morning.

About 40km outside of Windhoek, we rode past the airport. We had been warned to expect an increase in traffic and a change in terrain. There are gorgeous rolling hills in the outskirts of the city - but apparently Windhoek sits atop a sort of plateau, so that means more ascending than descending.

The traffic did not seem too bad at first, and I was even enjoying the changing landscape. You can see the top of a hill and it's usually followed by a cool coast down - both of which make it much more manageable than the incessant fight against the wind. What I did not like was the ominous storm cloud that hung over our heads. As we surmounted each hill, we could see the flash of lightning in the distance, and the thunder gradually got louder and louder.

Then the rain started. Of course I had left my water proof gear in the truck since it had been such a sunny morning. I was soaked within about five minutes, and it was cold.

Then the hail started. I could hear the pitter-patter of ice pellets hitting my head and I was grateful I was wearing a helmet.

Meanwhile, the traffic had increased as we got closer to the city, and the cars were wizzing by on the narrow highway at top speed. The sky was so dark - with pouring rain and steamy window - I'm sure the drivers could not see us until they were already past. For the first time I felt like I was doing something really risky - not just challenging but potentially dangerous. Plus I was drenched. And freezing.

Viv and I pulled over when we spotted some other riders huddled under a tree. Having ridden every inch since Cairo, they were going to wait for the weather to clear then continue. But I had no interest in shivering under a tree for a few hours. I had reached my limit.

So Viv and I flagged down a truck who gave us (and our bikes) a lift into camp. My odometer said 125km. 

So in the end I did not ride 1547km across Africa, but only 1512km. I came up about 22 miles short. Still that's about 940 miles by my calculations, so I think I can live with that.

Within 10 minutes of getting in the truck, the sky cleared and the sun came out. I was kicking myself.

Then 10 minutes later it was pouring raining again, and I was so relieved to be sitting in the safety and comfort of the truck. Upon arrival at camp, I celebrated with a hot shower - the first one in about three weeks. I stood under it for about 45 minutes so I think I made up for lost time.